English Speakers: Mayors and town halls (11 November)

“Mayor Talks To British Community”. This shock-horror headline hasn’t appeared, but should have. A mayor going along and talking to a bunch of Brits in a Brit-owned bar. Whatever next?

The mayor in question was Tommy Cifre. Two Tommy Cifres, there are only two Tommy Cifres present among Pollensa town hall’s cadre of councillors, but only one can be mayor, and it isn’t the one from the Mallorcan socialists. The mayor came, he spoke in a sort of English and conquered those who were concerned about the quality of the tap water.

It’s not, however, that you expect him to be perfect in English. Why should he be? Some Mallorcan politicians can apparently do English reasonably well. President Bauzá, or so it has been reported, impressed tour operators and others at a World Travel Market lunch with the “fluency” of his English. One who didn’t, it would seem, was the Mallorcan Joan Mesquida, who is only of course the national government’s tourism secretary and formerly the tourism minister. You can’t have someone able to communicate effectively with representatives from one of Spain’s principal tourism markets; that would just be pointless.

But it doesn’t matter because there are always interpreters and translators. Mesquida may be able to call on such services, but the town halls can’t necessarily. Take Alcúdia, for instance. A while back I received an email asking if I could put into serviceable English the Spanish description of the Roman town. Sure I could, and did, and sent it back with a note asking where I should send my invoice. Not that I seriously anticipated a positive response; and so I was therefore not disappointed to receive no response.

Though Alcúdia town hall now has a superbly scripted English explanation of Pollentia and the monographic museum, is it right that it should get one gratis and as a favour? Seemingly it is, and I hope all the British and English-speaking tourists are grateful. But is it also right that there appears not to be anyone actually employed or contracted (and paid accordingly) who can do English properly? And I do mean properly and not just in a somewhat better than putting a translation through Google fashion.

I don’t expect mayors to speak English. It was good of Cifre to give it a reasonable crack, therefore. In many Mallorcan municipalities, ability in English or another main foreign language would be almost completely unnecessary, but in towns such as Alcúdia and Pollensa – especially Pollensa – then I do expect some decent English; not by the mayor but through the systems of communication that exist. Ten per cent of Pollensa’s resident population is British; the town has an overwhelmingly British tourism market.

The counter-argument is, of course, that all these Brits should damn well learn the lingo, always assuming we know which lingo is being referred to; and in the now Partido Popular-dominated Pollensa town hall it is still stubbornly Catalan. But dream on; most will never learn the native sufficiently well and certainly not sufficiently well to engage in the political process.

A mayor coming to speak to the British community (and it must be said that it was more than just the Brits) is an aspect of this process. A question about tap water may sound trivial in the scheme of things, but in fact it isn’t; town halls do, after all, have legal responsibilities for sanitation.

But more than this, and this is where the whole argument about voting rights for expatriates tends to founder, is the fact that if communication is not understandable, then how can expatriates ever be expected to be anything like fully engaged in the process over and above a small minority that takes an interest regardless of the language? Ahead of the local elections in May, in which expatriates were entitled to vote, where were the communications in relevant languages? Perhaps there were in certain municipalities, but I was unaware of any.

Depending on municipality, Mallorca should display a multi-lingualism that reflects the realities of its population. English and German, probably French and Arabic; these might be considered the essential additional languages. Such reality is coming to be accepted; in Pollensa I know that local parties, and not just Cifre’s PP, are keen to engage with the English-speaking population. So they should.

It’s easy to dismiss expats as being uninterested in local politics. Many are, but many are not, especially at the local level. For a mayor as engaging as Tommy Cifre to come along and engage the Brits – in English – took some balls. He may have ballsed up his English, but so what? He made the effort.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

The State We’re In: Language

Should Mallorcan businesses get it right? Get English right? It was once put to me that it didn’t matter and that mangled English was just all part of the charm. Possibly so, but possibly it is also a case of being lazy or of mistake reinforcing mistake.

There are any number of English speakers knocking around who might help a restaurant, a shop, an event, an estate agency from making a language gaffe. Are any ever asked to give a menu, some instructions, a sign the once-over, just to be sure? Some are, but there are plenty of businesses who still manage to mangle English. All part of the charm perhaps, but there is charm and there is being professional.

Recently, we had the priceless “rules” set out by the Pollensa Music Festival, under which, among other things, it was not allowed “to enter any type of container nor devices of telephony”. We know what they were getting at, but a little bit of attention might have eliminated the potential for confusion or indeed hilarity.

There have been some wonderful mistakes that I have encountered over the years. A personal favourite remains the “flesh on the tenterhooks” of a grill restaurant. The owner said that the printers who had been responsible for the translation had insisted that they could do the English correctly. Which may be part of the problem; that of non-native speakers who fall into the language trap.

“Flesh on the tenterhooks” was, one presumed, meant to be something along the lines of tender meat, but it came out as sounding like an act of torture by the Inquisition. Tenterhooks, for the record, have nothing to do with cooking and everything to do with stretching cloth.

Making a complete balls-up has arguably been made more likely thanks to the Google translator and other machine translation systems. And when it comes to idioms and slang terms, of which there are an awful lot in English, such systems are almost completely useless.

Some mistakes, however, just keep on getting repeated. And a prime example is the “state agency”; not an agency of the state, but an estate agency. You can find many states that appear to be being traded by state agencies which should in fact be estate agencies.

A new sign appeared at one estate agency the other day, replete with the same old mistake. But why does it keep being made? Has no one ever pointed the mistake out? My guess is that “state” is so common that it is thought to be correct, not least by signmakers who will insist that it is correct as they have been in this state for years.

Proper names can also be problematic. In certain cases, they always have been. In Puerto Alcúdia, the recent fire at an apartment block caused a bit of a problem as to how it should be reported. The apartments have always lacked one letter. Who originally took the “p” out of the Mississipi (sic)? The same person possibly who didn’t see the “c” in the Picadilly (sic) bar. Has anyone ever noticed the missing “n” that means that the Britania (sic) bar doesn’t rule the waves? (The missing “p” might be put down to being Spanish, but then in Spanish there would be a missing “s” as well – twice over; Picadilly and Britania are Spanish, but their markets have been British.)

Not that these probably matter. Test your average Brit tourist and, nine times out of ten, he wouldn’t know how to spell them anyway. And it’s certainly not as though the language trap doesn’t work in reverse or that borrowing from Spanish doesn’t come into play.

Pop along to your nearest state agency, or preferably estate agency, and you might find a property that takes your fancy. However, the state agent tells you that it is in need of reform. Has it been a naughty boy? Is it to have its law changed? The widespread use of reform to mean altering a building in some way isn’t, strictly speaking, correct usage. Incorrect or not, it is a good example of a word whose meaning has been borrowed from Spanish that, because of its generality, works rather better than correct English alternatives.

And the property needing reform might well be in an urbanisation, another specific adaptation from the Spanish to mean an estate, or should it be a state? Once reformed, the property may well become “perfect”, states of perfection being more widely expressed by “perfecto” Spaniards and therefore also now by English-speaking adopters.

To answer my initial question though. Tell me. Should they get it right? Go on, tell me. I command you. The abrupt, somewhat impolite use of this imperative is something else that has passed from Spanish. “Digame”. Tell me.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

Language Rules: Don’t enter containers!

“All concerts will start punctually at 22:00 hours.”

So far not so bad. Bit of a problem with “22:00 hours” and the rather direct tone, which makes it sound like a police report, but then this is all part of the “rules”, as will become evident.

“The entry will only be allowed in their precinct in the rest among the pieces of the program, if there is some.”

Erm, now things get a tad awkward. We have a definite article “the entry” where a definite article is not required. We also have a “program” that can normally only be a “program” if it is American or a piece of software. We also have a totally meaningless sentence. If there is some what, exactly?

“The persons foreign to the organization can not make pictures, nor filming or enregistramens.”

Ok, so the persons are presumably in fact people, as, and again a bit like police reports, persons are not generally the correct plural form. And who are these persons? They’re foreigners. Is this right? From abroad. Tourists perhaps. Whoever they are, they “can not” where normally they “cannot” take pictures and then … then we get a bit lost. The foreigners cannot make “enregistramens”. Let me help out. It is in fact Catalan for recordings.

“It is not allowed to smoke in the inside of the courtyard of the Cloister, nor the use of ranges or similar. It is not allowed either to enter any type of container nor devices of telephony.”

Right, so I think we get the bit about not smoking, but the use of these ranges or indeed similar. Where is this all going? And then it becomes a guessing game. What containers are there in the Cloister (I assume we are talking about the Cloister)? One is not, for example, allowed to enter a rubbish container or a skip. Is this what is meant? Entering a device of telephony would be some feat. Don’t know about you, but I have never tried to physically get inside a mobile phone.

“The entry/ticket of those persons who use a non appropriate wardrobe in relation/relationship to/in the act will not be allowed.”

Hmm. So someone or some persons come along with a wardrobe that is, oh I don’t know, is it from IKEA perhaps? If it were from the grand El Corte Inglés department store would this be appropriate? The police report seems to have returned as well. Persons or persons unknown in a non appropriate (should of course be inappropriate) wardrobe and being caught in the act. Fine, it’s becoming clearer. If you’re caught in the act with your inappropriate wardrobe, then you are not allowed. Allowed to do what? Or allowed in maybe? Yep, I think it’s allowed in.

Look, I could go on with all of this, but I imagine you have got the drift by now. This mangling of the English language comes from the ominously presented “General Rules” for the Pollensa Music Festival. Actually getting to these rules is a challenge in itself. Go to the website for the festival and the home page is that from 2010, so you might be inclined to give up. But if you click English, you come to 2011 and eventually to the rules.

There are several points about all this. One is that the publicity is still so poor that they haven’t got round to changing the home page. The second is the sheer pomposity of some of these “rules”, assuming you can understand them. They just go to reinforce what I have said about the limited appeal of the festival. They are designed to deter not to attract. And thirdly, there is of course the fact that the English is total gobbledegook.

This is an international event. Allegedly. English is the usual international language. Why on earth can’t they find someone – from Britain or another English-speaking country, of whom there are many knocking around Pollensa – to spend a few minutes translating the Klingon that has been provided into English? Probably because they might have to pay someone, and they haven’t got any money. It is, however, a dreadful indictment. You can understand a restaurant getting its English cocked up (actually you can’t understand, because they could also get a native-speaker to give it the once-over), but this is a bloody music festival. Prestigious, so they say. The most prestigious in Mallorca. They’re having a laugh.

You despair, you really do despair.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

Tiddly-Om-Pom-Pom

Strolling along the prom, the brass bands playing tiddly-om-pom-pom.

Funnily enough, you do get brass bands, sort of, on the proms. During fiestas the local music bands are dragged out – lots of brass, lots of bugles and banging of drums. They’re not quite the prom of British summers past, but they’ll do.

Proms. As in promenades and not the last night thereof. Elsewhere, on Holiday Truths to be precise, someone was asking about proms. Alcúdia and Puerto Pollensa were mentioned.

First things first. Why is that people rarely refer to Puerto Alcúdia? It’s always just Alcúdia. They are, strictly speaking, two different places. Hardly anyone ever refers to Puerto Pollensa as Pollensa, correctly making the distinction. I suppose it’s all down to the distance factor, or the absence of distance where Alcúdia and its port are concerned.

But to return to proms, someone replied that while Alcúdia has a flat prom (aren’t all proms flat?), it is more “Englished” by comparison with Puerto Pollensa. Whether the Englished referred to the prom or to the whole of Alcúdia was not clear, but let’s just consider this English angle, which I will expand to be British.

If you take the proms alone, those of Puertos Alcúdia and Pollensa, can either be described as British (or Englished)? Go on, can they? Between the two of them I can think of only very few establishments that are British or quasi-British. Oceano in Puerto Alcúdia, but slip an “o” on the end of ocean and you get something un-British. No Frills in Puerto Pollensa possibly, but that’s half-Mallorcan, while Seamus is from Donegal; not a lot of Britishness there, except in terms of British Isles.

No, there is little or nothing British/Englished about either prom.

Broaden the concept to embrace the whole of the resorts, and what does one then get? In the ports of Alcúdia and Pollensa, there are similar numbers of British bars. There are similar numbers of British supermarkets – one per port. Only as you head off Mile way, does the Britishness really start to kick in. But hang on a minute. Granted there are a whole load of Brit tourists, granted there are a number of Brit bars, but there are an awful lot of non-Brits. Alcúdia is extraordinarily cosmopolitan; its tourism profile is that diverse that most of Europe is represented. The same cannot be said for Puerto Pollensa. What can be said is, for example, that “Bild” once famously warned its German readership from going anywhere near Puerto Pollensa because it was a “well-known English holiday citadel” (4 June 2008, “Hans Plays With Lotte”). It didn’t say anything about Alcúdia, or even Puerto Alcúdia. Puerto Pollensa is so British, it has acquired the flavour of an Eastbourne. There should be more brass bands on the prom, prom, prom in Puerto P.

Ok, I know what was meant, and at least the weak old Alcúdia is like Blackpool line wasn’t hauled out again. But let’s compare like for like, which means comparing port with port. There’s very little difference, except for the fact that Puerto Pollensa is vastly more British – one can’t say “Englished” because of all the Jocks – but more British it most certainly is.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.